Fallen
by Kiibun
Summary: The world around Sarah is trying to lure her back down to the Underground, only a vague memory in the back of her mind. Can she escape the nightmares of reality while also running from a long forgotten dream? Only time can tell if Sarah can overcome a dark destiny, or if Fate truly is inevitable.
1. Prologue

_This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the _

_products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, _

_living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author also claims no rights to the original_

_characters or storyline, but uses it as a basis for personal interpretation and original story._

_Story & Original Characters © Brittney Morgan (Kiibun)_

_Labyrinth Original Characters © Jim Henson_

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><p>"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered." She mumbled softly to herself, looking up at the clouds as she lay in the freshly fallen autumn leaves. "I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City.." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her cheeks a becoming rosy color from her many hours laying in the comfortable chill of the meadow-like park she always frequented.<p>

"_Heh heh ehh_!" A low, cold cackle erupted from behind her, and she bolted up to her feet glancing about frantically. She saw nothing out of sort, but after the nightmare she had four years prior, she found herself oddly paranoid, often hearing things she found to not be there once investigated. She had kept this from her father of course, not wanting to trouble him or Irene any further than they were already, apart from the ever abundant piles of bills and Toby's private school tuition.

"Who's there!" She managed to choke out, mustering up the courage to poke around in the bushes nearby, only to find nothing there. She let out a strained sigh, but found it caught in her throat as the rustle of leaves reached her ears. She turned slowly, her body trembling.

"It's–" She furrowed her brows and let out a relieved, breathy laugh, squatting down slightly, holding the skirt of her dress to keep it from flowing about. "It's a rabbit." The little creature looked up at her, little black eyes shining, seemingly unafraid. Perhaps a pet?

"How queer." She mumbled softly, reaching a hand out slowly to see if she could pet it, "Where did you come from little guy?" It held still as her fingers neared closer and closer to it's little white head, save for it's nose that twitched slightly, almost in response.

"Maybe I'll take you home," She smiled softly, "Toby would love you." Her fingers brushed it's ear and it bolted under her, causing her to jump in surprise. She turned, seeing the white rabbit looking at her from a few feet away, and as she took a step toward it it began to bounce further into the trees. She smiled, about to follow it into the wood, until she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Sarah, _darling_," Her father called from the bridge, "I've been looking for you for ages!" She turned to see his gentle, but stern expression. She smiled at him sheepishly, finally noticing the darkening sky, and he shook his head, arms crossed.

"Toby is fussing about you being late to dinner," He called to her, pointing to his silver Rolex, "And Irene isn't too happy either. Hurry up, unless you want both our meals to be cold." He began to walk toward the gates of the park, to the still running car and she sprinted to catch up with him, a childish smile gracing her face for but a moment.

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><p><em>Don't forget to favorite or review if you have any thoughts, comments or criticism for this chapter.<em>

_Thank you, and happy reading._


	2. A Perfect Family

_Reviews Q&A_

_To Hannah; Yes, Sarah is roughly 19-20 in this story, and instead of the mid 80's or so when the movie was released, this story is set in modern times. In response to the Alice and Wonderland undertones, I admit that Through The Looking Glass is a big inspiration for this story, and for where I want to go. However, I plan for this story to take on a whole new perspective on the Underground and the fairy-tales we know and love._

_Thank you again for the responses, and to the other reviewers; Thank you for enjoying the story and yes, I shall try to write chapters regularly._

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><p>"I really am sorry Irene." Sarah said softly, sitting stiffly in the uncomfortable, tacky chairs her stepmother had bought recently, despite the never ending bills and debt she was quickly burying them in. "I lost track of time again." She looked down at her near empty plate, of which she had not touched nearly a single morsel.<p>

It seemed Irene was cutting down her meals again, something she claimed was to help Sarah become more woman-like, with a better figure and disposition. However, it just made her ache in slight hunger, and leaving her drained of energy.

"Oh, you're sorry?" She fussed, face screwed up in an uptight annoyance. "You're awfully sorry indeed! Look at you, lankly thing, still running around in a child's dress-up clothes?

And that hair, do you ever bathe? And those nails!" She stood up abruptly, sighing in exaggerated disgust. "Go! Go to your room before you spoil the entire evening with your grime!"

Sarah looked to her father, who was eating absentmindedly with one hand and finishing paperwork with the other. "Dad–" She began to coax, hoping for a little support.

"Don't even think of bothering him with your whining!" Her father didn't so much as glance at her, much less his wife, completely oblivious to the conversation at hand.

"Sarah, _dear_, listen to your mother." He said, signing a loose contract, before eating a heaping spoonful of Shepherds Pie. She sighed, standing up reluctantly.

"She isn't my mother," She mumbled under her breath, pushing her chair in. "And this isn't dress-up clothes for children, I made it myself."

"Oh? And would you say that that failed, sorry excuse for an actress is a better mother than me?" Irene gave a snide jab, her hand on her hip. "Or if you don't wish to discuss her, perhaps you'd like to tell me where you got the money to make that little costume?"

"Dad gave it-" She started to explain, only to be cut off once again. Irene shook her head in mock shame, tut-tuting in bitter judgment.

"Asking for money from your poor father? Even with all these bills piling up, you sit on your fat bottom and live here for free, eating our food, wearing clothes we buy for you," She glared at her in malice. "You still have the audacity to ask for more money? If you want to waste our precious income on that trash you're wearing, get out of this house, get a job, and do it without burdening others. Honestly, how selfish can you be?"

"I'm sorry Irene." Sarah finally relinquished, face burning with an undeserved shame. "It won't happen again."

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><p><em>Don't forget to favorite or review if you have any thoughts, comments or criticism for this chapter.<em>

_Thank you, and happy reading._


	3. Little Cinder Girl

The rain pounded harshly against the glass, only slightly covering the gentle sobs buried within her worn, beloved Lancelot. Sarah sniffled slightly, hazel eyes again flooding over at the sight of her outfits, sown by hand with a sincere affection and dedicated patience, lay strewn about the floor in the chaotic aftermath that was of Irene raiding her closet on a crusade to find out where each and every penny of the small allowance her father gave her went.

She wasn't careful, and Sarah didn't expect she would be, but the sheer malice of which she had torn apart her dresses was truly heartbreaking. Ribbons, beads, buttons and lace; ripped from their stitched place, shredded, tossed, destroyed. Oh the dresses, the thought made the tears fall hot down her pale cheeks, the cheap, thin fabric Sarah took such gentle care of was torn ruthlessly as they were yanked from the hangers and thrown to the dirtied floor.

"Are you still throwing a fit in there?" A sharp rap at the door, and Sarah shoved her toy bear under her pillow and wiped her eyes as quickly as possible as the door to her room swung open. "I've met toddlers with more decency and self-respect than you."

"Do-" Sarah took a shaky breath, "Do you need something?" Irene's eyes glittered, and for the first time she let the crooked, poisonous smile befall her face. A snake, Sarah thought, would not be able to show such hatred in a smile as she does.

"Your _father_ and I," She put a cruel emphasis on this, and Sarah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, "-We've decided it would be best for you to go out into the world. Leave the nest. _Move out_." She made a dramatic, rude gesture as if Sarah wouldn't understand what she meant.

"And besides," Irene took a step in and make it a point to take a sweeping look at the room, "Your father thinks this room will make a perfect hobby room for me. Isn't he the most _generous_ husband?" A shrill laugh echoed coldly in her ears and it left a hard lump in her throat, and she sat in silence for a moment, shocked.

"When?"

"Tonight."

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><p><em>Don't forget to favorite or review if you have any thoughts, comments or criticism for this chapter.<em>

_Thank you, and happy reading._


	4. The Not-So-Wicked Stepmother

_JazminaPashmina; I enjoy feedback on my work, but I was ironically endearingly annoyed with your blatant rudeness. I am writing from the personal experience of domestic abuse from family members, and I understand some people who have not suffered from that find it distasteful. However, you're lack of wanting to follow through is amusing, as I write in short bursts. As per your review, I assume you are of high intelligence, however, you didn't take the time to think that although Irene was indeed a bit overbearing and rude in the beginning, the last paragraph was quite out of place. If you ever do find yourself reading this, I hope you understand now that I intend to have dynamic characters who, however flawed, are human and act as such. Her behaviour is far from pointless, and is helping to precedent future chapters. And for my final point, I apologize if my spelling, grammar and punctuation bothers you, and is off point. This is something I do in my free time, for people like you, so give me a slight break when things aren't perfect. :)_

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><p>"Sarah!" A voice called to her, "Sarah!" She felt her body jolt and she found herself shaking like a leaf, draped in the darkness of the early morning. Sarah could feel her heart racing, hands clammy and hair plastered to her face by way of sweat and tears.<p>

"A nightmare," The voice spoke again, and Sarah found herself in her stepmother's arms. "Your father and I could hear you crying in your sleep." Irene pulled back for a moment to look at Sarah, face pale and free from makeup, hair up in curlers.

The dream started to fade, and the memory of the previous night came crashing back. She had come home a bit late for dinner, Irene was all flustered per usual, and she was sent to bed early; yet here was the woman holding her like a child. She had always seen the soft, motherly side of her when she doted on Toby, but she had only been an older, somewhat overbearing and sharp, womanly figure in her life.

"I'm sorry Sarah," Irene shook her head, "I've been monstrous this past week. I know full well you've grown up and started to pursue your dreams, and having me pushing you to be like me is, well, not exactly the best for you." Sarah sat silent, never one to see this side of her stepmother.

"It's fine, really." Sarah tried to interject, feeling awkward in the abrupt situation, "I know that money is tight nowadays, and I shouldn't have let dad give me money."

"No, no." Irene cut her off softly, "After you came up to bed, your father and I sat down for a chat. He isn't as oblivious as you might think. I want to apologize for what I said about Linda, your mother, and I just worry you might fall into her footsteps. She was talented once, but frivolous, running off with that man to Hollywood and leaving you behind.

You see, my own mother was rarely in the picture, and I find myself pushing my own ideals on you out of habit. I know we've never seen eye to eye, and I know I can be horrid at times. You're young Sarah, and I don't expect you to understand the stress of marriage, money and parenting. I was you to know that I care about you, I want you to be a cute little doll, all clean and tiny, and well . . . it's something I know you can never live up to.

You're beautiful child, and you carry yourself with a unique charm. You have an amazing talent when it comes to designing clothes, especially renaissance-esque types, and I regret being so mean last night. I won't try to excuse it, but with the bills piling up, your father and I can hardly keep up with money."

"Irene," Sarah finally said, giving her stepmother a tight hug, "It's alright, you don't have to worry about me. I know things have been shaky this past few years, and I'm starting to figure my life out as well. I might even try to move out and live on my own." Irene hugged back, a little more endearing than Sarah expected, and then she pulled away with a soft yawn, placing a kiss on her head and walking back to the door.

"Get some sleep," Irene said quietly, closing the door slowly. "I'll have a special breakfast for you in the morning to help you feel better. My type of diet seems to be putting a lot of stress on you."

"Thanks," Sarah replied, getting comfortable once again wanting to fall back asleep soon, as to start the day afresh in the morning.

"And Sarah?" She hummed in response. Irene whispered softly as she closed the door completely, "You've never been a burden. Your father and I love you very much."

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><p><em>Don't forget to favorite or review if you have any thoughts, comments or criticism for this chapter.<em>

_Thank you, and happy reading._


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